Ali
01-21-2005, 10:34 AM
Newsweek[Sunday, January 09, 2005 08:31]
Fascinated by its faith, young Chinese are flocking to the region. Could the Dalai Lama be close behind?
By Craig Simons
Newsweek International
Jan. 17 issue - When Baimadanzen was growing up in Beijing at the height of the Cultural Revolution, his Buddhist father sometimes played records of monks chanting. But he knew nothing about the religion until he moved in 1989 to a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the remote western Sichuan region of Sertar to study with a master of the ancient Chinese art of qigong. He lived among thousands of monks and soon became infatuated with their religion. "Their teachings showed me how to live a full life," says Baimadanzen, now a 42-year-old travel agent who goes by his Tibetan name. The experience also changed his view of Tibet. "My parents' generation wanted to liberate and reform Tibet," he says. "But now younger Chinese go to Tibet to learn."
Indeed, journeys like Baimadanzen's are becoming increasingly common. Over the past decade tens of thousands of Han Chinese have sought enlightenment at the feet of Tibetan Buddhist masters. According to Robert Thurman, a professor of Indo-Tibetan religion at Columbia University, more than 3,000 ethnic Han monks and nuns have studied in Sertar alone. Millions of Han tourists have also made the trip: in 2003, 877,000 Chinese visited Tibet—21 percent more than the year before, and seven times as many as visited in 1993. That has created a booming Chinese market for all things Tibetan. Han Hong, a Tibet-born songwriter living in Beijing, catapulted to stardom by singing about "the land of snow." The number of books about Tibet has also skyrocketed; Beijing-based author Wen Pulin says his chronicle of life in Tibet, "Ba Jia Living Buddha," has sold more than a million copies, many of them on the black market. "Lots of people take the book with them when they go to Tibet," he says.
The surge in interest has even reached the top of the Communist Party. "Government officials won't tell you that they are studying Tibetan Buddhism," says one academic with government ties. "But I know that [former president] Jiang Zemin is very interested." Indeed, one wealthy Tibetan living in Chengdu says that Jiang once personally endorsed $36 million of government funds to restore a temple complex in Gansu province after the head monk asked for his support.
The enthusiasm is helping to preserve Tibetan culture. Just three decades ago, during the Cultural Revolution, Chinese traveled to Tibet to smash its temples as symbols of feudalism and superstition. Now they are giving money to build new ones. Wen, an ethnically Manchu Chinese, donated $60,000 to build a temple in Sichuan. Bala, a Tibetan living in Chengdu (who, like many Tibetans, uses a single name), claims to have met a Han businessman who hardly blinked when his Tibetan Buddhist teacher asked him to give $500,000 for a temple restoration.
The change in attitude is partly a result of Deng Xiaoping's reforms. Prior to 1980, most citizens knew Tibet only through the propaganda churned out in Beijing. Now they are able to travel there and have access to foreign media. But the Chinese embrace of Tibetan Buddhism—as well as of other religions—also reflects a need to fill the spiritual vacuum left by the collapse of Maoist ideology. Some observers say China's Buddhist roots may make the Han more inclined toward Tibetan teachings than toward other faiths.
Could the surge in interest pave the way for the return of the Dalai Lama—who has been living in exile in Dharamsala, India—and eventually for the restoration of Tibetan autonomy? Several high-level delegations from Dharamsala have visited Beijing recently, breaking a nearly 10-year freeze on talks. The Dalai Lama himself told reporters last summer he remained optimistic that broader shifts in society could benefit Tibetans. "Things are changing in a positive direction," he said. "Among Chinese intellectuals, businessmen [and] artists, more and more are showing interest in Tibetan culture, Tibetan Buddhism."
Beijing remains leery of movements with popular momentum. In 2001, officials, worried about the rapid rise in the number of students at the Sertar monastery—from virtually zero in 1980 to more than 10,000—moved in and forced Han Chinese to return to their hometowns. (Many eventually came back.) But Tibet chic will be tough to quell. When 29-year-old Beijing-born Huang Mei saw the Dalai Lama in the United States in 1996, she cried. A year later she traveled in Tibet and then gave up her New York City job as an accountant to move to Lhasa. Since then, several Han friends from Beijing have visited her—and stayed. "The ultimate goal," she says, "is to be happy." Baimadanzen now sends as much money as he can to monks in Sertar. He also talks up his faith to friends, and thinks the appeal is contagious. "More Han will begin to believe," he says. Tibet's future may depend on it.
Taken from Phayul.com (http://www.phayul.com/news/article.aspx?id=8755&article=A+Tibetan+Love+Affair)
Fascinated by its faith, young Chinese are flocking to the region. Could the Dalai Lama be close behind?
By Craig Simons
Newsweek International
Jan. 17 issue - When Baimadanzen was growing up in Beijing at the height of the Cultural Revolution, his Buddhist father sometimes played records of monks chanting. But he knew nothing about the religion until he moved in 1989 to a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the remote western Sichuan region of Sertar to study with a master of the ancient Chinese art of qigong. He lived among thousands of monks and soon became infatuated with their religion. "Their teachings showed me how to live a full life," says Baimadanzen, now a 42-year-old travel agent who goes by his Tibetan name. The experience also changed his view of Tibet. "My parents' generation wanted to liberate and reform Tibet," he says. "But now younger Chinese go to Tibet to learn."
Indeed, journeys like Baimadanzen's are becoming increasingly common. Over the past decade tens of thousands of Han Chinese have sought enlightenment at the feet of Tibetan Buddhist masters. According to Robert Thurman, a professor of Indo-Tibetan religion at Columbia University, more than 3,000 ethnic Han monks and nuns have studied in Sertar alone. Millions of Han tourists have also made the trip: in 2003, 877,000 Chinese visited Tibet—21 percent more than the year before, and seven times as many as visited in 1993. That has created a booming Chinese market for all things Tibetan. Han Hong, a Tibet-born songwriter living in Beijing, catapulted to stardom by singing about "the land of snow." The number of books about Tibet has also skyrocketed; Beijing-based author Wen Pulin says his chronicle of life in Tibet, "Ba Jia Living Buddha," has sold more than a million copies, many of them on the black market. "Lots of people take the book with them when they go to Tibet," he says.
The surge in interest has even reached the top of the Communist Party. "Government officials won't tell you that they are studying Tibetan Buddhism," says one academic with government ties. "But I know that [former president] Jiang Zemin is very interested." Indeed, one wealthy Tibetan living in Chengdu says that Jiang once personally endorsed $36 million of government funds to restore a temple complex in Gansu province after the head monk asked for his support.
The enthusiasm is helping to preserve Tibetan culture. Just three decades ago, during the Cultural Revolution, Chinese traveled to Tibet to smash its temples as symbols of feudalism and superstition. Now they are giving money to build new ones. Wen, an ethnically Manchu Chinese, donated $60,000 to build a temple in Sichuan. Bala, a Tibetan living in Chengdu (who, like many Tibetans, uses a single name), claims to have met a Han businessman who hardly blinked when his Tibetan Buddhist teacher asked him to give $500,000 for a temple restoration.
The change in attitude is partly a result of Deng Xiaoping's reforms. Prior to 1980, most citizens knew Tibet only through the propaganda churned out in Beijing. Now they are able to travel there and have access to foreign media. But the Chinese embrace of Tibetan Buddhism—as well as of other religions—also reflects a need to fill the spiritual vacuum left by the collapse of Maoist ideology. Some observers say China's Buddhist roots may make the Han more inclined toward Tibetan teachings than toward other faiths.
Could the surge in interest pave the way for the return of the Dalai Lama—who has been living in exile in Dharamsala, India—and eventually for the restoration of Tibetan autonomy? Several high-level delegations from Dharamsala have visited Beijing recently, breaking a nearly 10-year freeze on talks. The Dalai Lama himself told reporters last summer he remained optimistic that broader shifts in society could benefit Tibetans. "Things are changing in a positive direction," he said. "Among Chinese intellectuals, businessmen [and] artists, more and more are showing interest in Tibetan culture, Tibetan Buddhism."
Beijing remains leery of movements with popular momentum. In 2001, officials, worried about the rapid rise in the number of students at the Sertar monastery—from virtually zero in 1980 to more than 10,000—moved in and forced Han Chinese to return to their hometowns. (Many eventually came back.) But Tibet chic will be tough to quell. When 29-year-old Beijing-born Huang Mei saw the Dalai Lama in the United States in 1996, she cried. A year later she traveled in Tibet and then gave up her New York City job as an accountant to move to Lhasa. Since then, several Han friends from Beijing have visited her—and stayed. "The ultimate goal," she says, "is to be happy." Baimadanzen now sends as much money as he can to monks in Sertar. He also talks up his faith to friends, and thinks the appeal is contagious. "More Han will begin to believe," he says. Tibet's future may depend on it.
Taken from Phayul.com (http://www.phayul.com/news/article.aspx?id=8755&article=A+Tibetan+Love+Affair)